Dac Crossley's Western Blog

The Silent Spring

I’m invited to speak with a group of nature writers on Monday, about the way I use nature writing in my novels (The Old Professor is happy to talk on something he knows very little about…). You old Texans will know the three nature writers I’ll feature -- Tom Lea, J. Frank Dobie and Roy Bedichek. And there is a nice blog named “The Nature Writers of Texas” (Texasnature.blogspot.com).

Yes, Texans do enjoy nature writing – but -- the most influential nature writer of our time? Has to be Rachel Carson, author of “Silent Spring.”

A marine biologist, she’d already won her spurs with her book “The Sea around Us.” We were spraying DDT like mad, especially in the South, and it was killing off songbirds. With “Silent Spring,” Carson made an impassioned plea to stop using DDT. After considerable hand-wringing, DDT was banned.

“Silent Spring” brought the term “ecology” out of obscurity and into the common lexicon. At the time, I was employed at Oak Ridge National Laboratory in a little group of ecologists. Physicists and Engineers at the Lab didn’t know what ecology was, and they were pretty sure we weren’t any good at it. After “Silent Spring” they understood what ecology was all about.

Soon after, I ran head-on into the war on science. Teaching ecology to entomologists was a personal challenge for me. Entomologists praised DDT and insisted that, without it, we wouldn’t have any food. And I heard over and over, the objections we’ve become so familiar with – “needs more study.” Entomologists were at war with ecology.

We’ve moved on. No more DDT. Cigarette smoking (the original “needs more study”) is way down. Our dependence on our natural environment is pretty well understood by everybody.

And yet, the war on science goes on. The old cant still echoes through our halls of government. “Needs more study.”

Dac Crossley
June 25, 2016. Happy birthday, Lance R.

“The more clearly we can focus our attention on the wonders and realities of the universe about us, the less taste we shall have for destruction.” – Rachel Carson.

Living It Over Again

High summer. I jump out of bed, pull on my short pants, and burst out the door into the world. Just as I did when I was nine years old. School was out, no chores to do, just enjoy the freedom of springtime. June still resonates with me, that feeling of euphoria that unites me with nature in all her wonder.

In my Golden Years I step into a different universe, one that is strangely predictable. Cars go up and down my street each day, the same cars. Neighbors walk their dogs; I am friend to familiar primates and canines. My suburb is wooded, a manicured forest, more horticultural than primordial.

When I burst out the door in my childhood I met no such predictability. Each day began anew with discovery. Had the writing spider written my name, overnight? Shall I find a horned toad at my favorite red ant bed? Or a mountain boomer? There, on the barbed-wire fence, a grasshopper impaled. Where is the nine-killer?

And I wonder – does today’s youth find those wonders? Probably not, I’m told, because we are now an urban society. The rural childhood has become the rarity. Most of us experience a June morning with a whiff of gasoline fumes. We are now city folk. Our mothers don’t warn us about rattlesnakes or stray dogs, but about strangers and sugary sodas. We see the world on heavily-sponsored television.

And yet I have hope. Over on the west side of the 98th parallel, can you still see the Milky Way at night? Does light pollution fade away so that the nights are crisp? Does the dawn still find a moment of stillness before the breeze begins? Do grasshoppers still sing to little boys?

Dac Crossley
June 17th, 2016

“The essence of life is change.” – Miss Jane Marple.

The Long Twilight

It was such a happy time when we were children. June comes along, school is out, easy warm days and those long, long twilights. Dusk went on and on, right into bedtime, filled with glee and games. Fireflies to chase and inspect. Soft grass between your toes, laughter on your lips. A flashlight for tracking your playmates, games of chase in the shadows. And, if you lived in South Texas, maybe a tarantula.

We were scared to death of those big hairy harmless spiders. Parents told us, ”Tarantulas can jump ten feet! Their bite will make you sick, maybe kill you.” All part of that good old South Texas lore. Uncle so-and-so found one in his boot…

As adults we learned that tarantulas won’t bite you. And even if one managed to bite, it wouldn’t kill you, or even hurt very much. Their hairs can irritate your skin, tho. Yet the magic remains, even here in Georgia, when you see a tarantula.

We kids did hazard a few stings in the twilight. Those red ants were active in the dark. Careful, don’t step in one of those big bare circles surrounding their nest holes! And don’t run head-long into a paper-wasp nest, either!

Do children in south Texas, down below the Nueces river, still play in the long June twilight? The red ants aren’t so common now, thanks to ag chemicals, but watch out for fire ants! Would the fireflies still tempt you? Could you catch one of the click beetles with their glowing green eyespots? And maybe, see a tarantula?

Those of us of a certain age are entering a twilight of our own. Vision grows dim, our toes don’t sense the grass, we move with caution. But – June twilight is still my favorite season.

Dac Crossley
June 3, 2016

“In the summer the song sings itself.” – William Carlos Williams.